


What you'll do for me

by BlueRam



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Infidelity, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki and Thor Are Not Related, Mpreg, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 19:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17473790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRam/pseuds/BlueRam
Summary: There is something to be said about letting things go. The fairytale would have you think that in time they return to you. In reality, its far from the truth. Sometimes you lose them forever. Thor knows this more than anyone as he watched his son frolic among the gardens with the warrior Three, laughter bright and sweet. Behind him Lady Jane slept peacefully, body sated from a night of lovemaking, oblivious to her husband's plight. The yearning for a child lost to him. A child who may never know his name.





	What you'll do for me

“So, it is true then?” Loki whispered, lightly caressing the swell of his stomach finding it hard to smile when his child stirred within him. The small kicks though small were quite powerful, an heir worthy of, he would have thought.

He would have if things were not different if his child’s right to the throne would not be invalidated by the words Sif would undoubtedly utter in the next second.

“He seems happy. She’s beautiful you know, more beautiful than I would have ever imagined—she—” Sif trailed off, swallowing tight the taste in her mouth bitter as she moved to stand beside Loki. She was tempted to place a comforting hand on his thin shoulder even if they were far from friends. No one was meant to suffer this faith, much less one as heavily pregnant as Loki.

The sky above them darkened, a storm rolling in from the eats as ravens flew to safety. Below, their people quickly packed their wares, battling the heavy winds that suddenly hit, holding onto their frock tails and hats as they sought shelter before the rains would undoubtedly come.

“Go on, she’s what Lady Sif?” Loki seemed so cold and untouchable at that moment. It was in the set of his shoulders that wavered under no weight, the way he sat straight-back, even with the weight of his belly that must have hurt his back.

“She has given him a son. A healthy boy with soft blonde hair and golden eyes. He is strong and has been strong for 12 moons. A legitimate—”

“Legitimate?” Loki whispered almost to himself before finally giving Sif his full attention. The woman would have flinched if she had been any other being subjected to the full crimson gaze of the Jotun prince. It so much resembled the fresh blood of her kinsmen spilt on frigid ice as Asgard waged war on Jotun land. His eyes bore the mark of a Prince who willingly swallowed his pride to save his people as Asgard forces triumphed and his father and brothers persisted with single-minded savagery that would no sooner save them all but rather doom them.

She remembered how through gritted teeth he had accepted Odin’s proposal, a marriage to mark a newborn truce and a better future for both lands. Odin realized the uses Jotunheim had. The production of exotic plants for medicine, trading routes through their glacial waters and neutral meeting points. All of that would be lost if Asgard ever tried to subjugate Jotunheim’s people. They would rather suffer, would rather die than grant Odin—grant Asgard such a boon, another victory amongst their defeat.

Loki realized that even a truce, an alliance was not forged Odin would easily cut his losses and destroy his home, his people. Something Laufey seemed more than ready to accept as opposed to forging new peace.

She remembered the admiration that swelled in her chest. A strange mixture with the hatred that settled in the pits of her stomach as Loki spoke up. He was fierce he was a warrior, a wordsmith, and in his defeat, as his hand was given to Thor as he was bound to the man who had slaughtered his kin as consort, he was beautiful.

“Thor, he married the mortal woman by handfasting and by the blessings of the old spirits. The marriage is valid and thus his son is—”

“Heir to the throne.” Loki swiftly stood from seat startling Sif who stepped back watching as Thor’s consort straightened his robes and flicked the tail end of his braided hair over his shoulders.

Thor had been against the marriage. He had raged when delivered the news, raged more when he set eyes on his bride. He treated Loki coldly, ignored him public and did his duty with little satisfaction. The chambermaids would whisper to themselves how quickly any intimacy between the two would be over. How Thor would spill his seed and quickly leave his consort to wallow away in shady taverns cups of ale before him.

Years went by and Asgard and Jotunheim had come to an understanding though old wounds still festered. Fights were fought and quarrels were had but there would no longer be war, unless given reason. A tentative friendship was being born anew between the two realms, a friendship that did not need Loki’s marriage to Thor to bind it. Or so it would seem to the Al-father's advisors. 

They themselves held great contempt for the Jotun prince. They would have prefered their own daughters bound to the golden prince, rather than a runt from a barren land that could not possibly be as much as a threat as Odin cautioned. The last war had the Jotuns by their necks. Who were they before Asgard's military might!

“Loki-your highness—” Sif cursed herself as she stumbled over her words.

“What will you do now? He-Thor will return with his wife and son in but a moon…” She trailed off as she watched Loki stare at the storming sky, a sadness about him that she couldn’t hope to understand.

It was almost as if Loki was hurt by the revelation. It sounded farfetched seeing that Loki held no love for Thor, neither did Thor for Loki.

What gave then?

Why would the Jotun Prince be sad? It is when he rested his hand on his swollen belly that she understood. The child in his womb; its fate. What life would it live when its throne was usurped by the half-mortal babe that suckled at its mother’s breast on Midgard. A child Thor wanted.

“Asgard will not protest, Lady Sif. Thor has an heir, a _male_ heir where my child has been divined female by the Al-Mother’s sight.” Loki’s smile was bitter as he turned away from Sif and made his way to his chambers, surprised when the woman hastily followed after him.

“Not only have I lost my place in light of Thor’s marriage; my child will suffer the fate of losing her throne, of losing a father that she might have never had!” Loki sneered, swiftly entering his rooms, ordering his chambers maids to pack his bag and sending a runner to send a message to Odin.

“You asked what I would do now, Lady Sif,” Loki glared as he spun around to face one of Thor’s oldest friends, a friend that strangely stood by his side as his relationship with Thor deteriorated more and more each year.

Deteriorated to the point that the man would sneer when told Loki was with child and quickly flee to Midgard in the arms of his whore. Deteriorated to the point that…that Loki cried at nights beside himself with the knowledge that somehow over the years he had fallen in love with his husband. The valiant warrior who fought for his people helped the poor, loved his mother dearly and at least once in his life showed kindness to Loki if though fleeting.

“What I’ll do is return to Jotunheim. What I’ll do is raise my daughter amongst people who will love her and never belittle her simply because she is woman, for Jotun has no concept of woman separate from man!” Loki stared down at the band that circled his wrist and without hesitation, he unclipped it from his wrist.

"What I'll do is spear myself further ridicule from a beast of a man with no honour. Spear my daughter the shame of being unwanted and set aside for a child who will never be her better heir to the throne or not!" He gently placed the band on his vanity, noting how the gold grew dull and worn.

“Then I have one simple request your highness, that I am allowed to accompany you,” Sif was firm, her head bowed and her fist over her heart.

 

* * *

 

 Thor grinned as his people rejoiced at his return, Lady Jane looked up, her smile sweet as she cradled their babe to her breast. Oh, how he loved her. The one to bring him peace, the one to show him, love, where he thought he would never find it.

He did not regret leaving his cold marriage bed to seek her out on Midgard, nor did he regret that he filled her womb with his child. She was the love of his life even if he was tied to the Jotun Prince he despised. Even if months earlier said prince had lied to his face that he was with child when they both knew it couldn’t be true. He said he was 5 moons along, five moons go he had never touched Loki.

If the Prince was with child, then it was not his! Thor swallowed down the ugly emotions that rose within him. The Warrior three had fueled his very thoughts that the child could not be his. They spoke stories of Loki’s ventures among the Asgardian court, how a few select nobles who were enemy to him had taken a liken to the Jotun.

No, the child was not his. A blessing perhaps.

“Thor?” Jane’s voice was soft as she brought Thor from the dark reaches of his mind.

“I’m alright, love, merely sour memories that have no place here. I yearn to introduce you to my mother and father. They will love you and our son, of that I’m sure,” Thor smiled, gently caressing her cheek before stroking the downy blonde hair of said son. He was just one moon shy of being a full cycle old.

“And what of the Prince. The one that you were forced to marry, what will he think of me?” Jane frowned, pulling away slightly and hushing her son as he whimpered. Thor frowned at the question, gritting his teeth before exhaling an almost silent breath.

“He is of no consequence. As far as I’m concerned you are my consort and our son Thorin is my heir, only heir,” His words were gruff as he led her along, the anger set in his brows only softening upon seeing his friends. The Warrior Three…though Sif was strangely missing.

* * *

 

 

“What?” Thor whispered, breathless at his mother’s words. She watched him with cold eyes, the set of her mouth firm.

“It is as I said, Prince Loki of Jotunheim left a moon ago along with your unborn child. An unborn child you saw fit to deny, my granddaughter!”

“I never touched him!” Thor ragged, but suddenly unsure as flashes of a drunken night filled with bliss invaded his thoughts. A celebration it was and drunk on whine he sought his consort’s attention. He remembered how had held Loki in his arms, kissed his protests away…made love to him than the standard lacklustre fuck he would give him when his father harped about duty.

He swallowed tightly when he remembered the honeyed words that had left soft blue lips, how for a moment the dislike in Loki’s eyes had faded away to hesitant love. How the man had writhed beneath him, long legs locked around his waist.

“I—”

“The child in Loki’s womb is yours, Thor, she is yours!” Frigga snapped before her voice softened.

Thor existed in a plane of confusion. He remembered his harsh words, how he had disowned Loki’s child in public, how he had called his consort a whore. As much as he disliked him he had never once disrespected his consort in the eye of the public until that day.

“I—I must go. Jane, my wife she—”

“Go to her then, but Thor you must know that Odin is not pleased. Not with the defilement of your marriage or your treatment of Loki. It’s why he let him go and allowed Sif to accompany him when she asked. You should not set foot in Jotunheim to disturb Loki’s peace. He deserves that much!”

Thor swallowed the instinctual retort that it was his child that Loki carried, that he had the right to his child.

“I understand.” It was hard to say and Frigga knew it. She knew that Thor would not let the wound he had gauged out himself heal, instead, with his intervention the wound may very well fester.

Thor said nothing more as he left, thoughts troubled and a pang of guilt he could have never expected settling heavy on his chest. The child was his? He had a daughter and the Prince...

Flashes of crimson red and consuming ebony filled his thoughts, the dull gold band around his wrist judging his every waking breath.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I might as well post this here seeing that I had it on tumblr. Unfortunately, I'm still without my laptop so no, there will be no BREATHE updates quite yet.


End file.
